


end of the world

by ell (amywaited)



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tags to be updated as we go, Zombie AU, Zombie Apocalypse, not underage okay peter ned and mj are all ADULTS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-09-17 22:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16982751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amywaited/pseuds/ell
Summary: heartbeats blink out. peters getting tired, and no one knows where theyre going anymore.he doesnt think theyre getting out of this





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> hey! enjoy this.

“ _ -Joining us is doctor Holly Griffiths, a globally celebrated brain specialist. Along with doctor Ewan Pattel, who specialises in viral infections. Pattel was working when the outbreak occurred. Today we’ll get their expert opinions on the infection, as well as how fatal it is. For that interview, join us after the break.” _

Peter sighs as the adverts start to play. Orange-yellow light streams through his blinds, and it’s just like any other Tuesday. He’s memorised this interview, but it’s one of the few remaining information sources he has. One of the few he has the money to buy.

The apocalypse turned the remaining survivors into a hierarchy. Everyone but a lucky few were turned. Peter survived by pure chance, but May didn’t. He last saw her tearing the guts out of the cashier working the corner store, but not since. He doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t know where anyone else is. He’s working on the assumption that everyone is a zombie now, because he can’t afford not to. The only people he can trust are Ned and MJ, because they’re staying with him. They don’t go out alone, they don’t leave each other’s sights. He knows they’re safe.

They have to be.

“ _ So, Dr. Griffiths, _ ” the interview continues, and Peter mouths along. “ _ What can you tell us about the infection?” _

_ “Well, Jane,” Holly says _ , _ “It changes the chemical process in your brain. We have pictures of an active, healthy brain, I think?” The TV screen between the interviewer and interviewees clicks on to a CAT scan of a brain. “Yeah, so this is what the average, human brain looks like. And then this is an active ‘zombie’ brain.” She does air quotes around the word zombie and the screen changes to show a brain the same size, but almost entirely black. “As you can see, there’s a vast difference. In fact, almost all of it is turned off, for want of a better word. It appears the virus affects the frontal and parietal lobe, the temporal lobe, the brain stem and the cerebellum. This means we can assume that the zombies are, well, dead. They’ve lost all memory of their previous life, as well as all personality, creativity, problem solving skills, language and reading abilities, their balance, coordination, and basic life functions like breathing.” She gestures to each section of the brain as she says them. _

_ “Wow,” the interviewer remarks. “So the zombies are truly just a shell of who they used to be?” _

_ “Pretty much. The only thing that hasn’t been affected is the occipital lobe, which means they still have stellar vision,” Holly says. “Which is just as bad for us.” _

_ The interviewer and Holly chuckle, but its tight and forced. The kind of laugh where they’re both terrified but trying not to be. _

_ “And now we’re over to Doctor Ewan, leading expert in viral infections,” the interviewer says. “Ewan, what can you tell us?” _

_ “Not much at all, I’m afraid,” Ewan says. “We don’t know exactly how the infection is transferred, or how it was created. When we take blood from the subjects, everything appears normal. In fact, the only things that tell us something is wrong is the brain scans. And, of course, the cannibalism.” _

_ There’s another awkward chuckle before Ewan continues. _

_ “We’ve got the original patient locked away,” he says, “Tests are being performed right as we speak in an attempt to get this situation under control and a cure administered.” _

_ “Do you know how close we are to finding a cure?” The interviewer asks. _

_ Ewan’s teeth toy with his bottom lip. “No. Things are looking bleak at the moment, and as it stands the patients are changing far too quickly to be any chance of saving them, had we a cure.” _

_ “So the virus is turning people already?” _

_ “Well, yes. The outbreak began at a hospital, full of sick people. We evacuated all of the healthy people, save for the doctors. And the virus appears to cheat death. We have no idea what’ll happen if it gets to a healthy person. It might kill them instantly. Or turn them into something inhuman altogether.” _

_ “So we agree that these creatures aren’t human?” The interviewer asks. _

_ “Indeed,” Holly says. “They’re shells of who they used to be. Which is why we have to exercise caution, and not hesitate should we need to.. Kill one of the-” _

The footage cuts off there, just like it does every time, and the video loops around again to the start.

MJ pauses it before it can start again. “Watching it for the, how many times now?”

Peter sighs and twists round to watch her. “I don’t know. I just want to be able to understand it.”

“You can’t understand it by watching the same clip over and over again,” she tells him, starting to hack a slice of bread from the dried loaf on the counter. Its some of their only remaining food, which means they’ll need to make a trip out soon.

Peter hums. “I can try.”

“We need more food,” MJ says, slamming a cupboard shut. “And we can get a more detailed work on the virus if you want.”

“We don’t have the money for that,” Peter says. “You know we don’t have the money for that.”

“Then we’ll have to steal it.”

Peter sits up on his knees to peer over the back of the couch. “We can’t  _ steal _ it.”

“Sure we can,” MJ says.

“That’s a death wish!”

“Staying here is a death wish,” she says, “Going outside is a death wish. Every fucking thing is a death wish these days,” she throws her arms up, dropping the bread knife on the counter. It lands with a clatter. “We’re all gonna die at some point, and it might even be tomorrow. What’s the problem if we die trying to learn more about whatever the hell is going on?”

Peter sighs. They’ve had this argument a million times. “I don’t want to give up. If I can find a cure, I will.”

“You can’t find a cure in your aunt’s kitchen, Peter!” MJ snaps. “You are fighting a useless fight. There is a billion to one chance we’ll survive this.”

“We’ve got this far, haven’t we?!” Peter yells back. “I’m not giving up, MJ. I’m not.”

She huffs out a breath, glances towards the ceiling. “I know. But it’s not gonna get any easier.”

“I’m not giving up,” Peter repeats.

“Yeah. I’ll get food,” MJ says.

“Now?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back soon.”

“Wait-” Peter starts, but she stalks over and opens their front door. “Don’t go alone!”

She slams the door. 

 

* * *

 

“Where’s MJ?” Ned asks, fiddling with one of the three guns they own. Peter doesn’t like using them, but they need the protection, especially in days as dark as these are.

“Getting supplies,” Peter replies. He’s not sulking on the couch, but he is staring emptily at the blank TV screen. He’s not sure why they still have electricity, but he’s not about to question it. The minute they lose their electricity, they’re dead. He’s counting his blessings. 

“Alone? Didn’t she bring a gun?”

“What?” Peter asks.

There’s still three guns on the counter. “You let her go out without protection?” Ned asks.

“I thought she’d have the foresight to take one!” Peter says. “We were.. Arguing,” he sighs. “Again.”

“About a cure?”

“What else do we argue about? She thinks it’s pointless, I think we shouldn’t give up,” Peter says. “She’ll be fine.”

“That’s what everyone says,” Ned tells him. “And then they never come home.” He picks up a bruised apple and peels off the sticker. It looks moldy, but beggars can’t be choosers, and they’ve all lost more weight than healthy since the outbreak. Ned takes a bite and grimaces. “How much food can we salvage? We won’t survive much longer on moldy shit.”

Peter shrugs. “It’s all we’ve got, or death.”

“Death would be easier.”

“Death would be giving in. And we don’t know if we’d be turned anyway,” Peter says.

“I’d hope someone would kill me,” Ned says. “You or MJ, hopefully. I don’t trust anyone else to do it.”

“You think we could kill you?” Peter asks.

Ned shrugs. “You might have to at some point.”

Peter sniffs. “I hope not.”

“You’ll have to come to terms with it at some point,” Ned says gently. “Everyone else is dead, or dying, or being turned. You will have to kill at some point, even if you don’t want to. It might end up being one of us two.”

“No, it won’t,” Peter says fiercely. “I won’t let you two get turned.”

“We don’t know how they turn people.”

“Its a virus,” Peter says, even though it’s pointless and they both know it already.

Ned sighs and moves over to flop on the couch next to him. “You know, when I said I wanted to be a hero, I never meant I wanted to live out a sci-fi movie.”

Peter chuckles, but it’s weak. “I know how you feel. MJ’s right, isn’t she?”

“She usually is. About what?”

“There’s no cure. We’re not getting out of this.”

Ned lets all the tension bleed out of his shoulders. “Probably.” 

Peter doesn’t reply.

“Geez, when you said I could come to a safe house, I didn’t think you meant a house of a buncha Debbie fuckin’ downers,” a new voice declares.

Peter and Ned both immediately jump up. Ned grabs one of the guns and cocks it. Peter just holds the TV remote out threateningly.

MJ comes in behind the new guy, holding a bulging plastic bag. “He’s fine, he’s safe. He’s clean, Ned, drop the gun. He’s with me.”

“Who is he?” Ned asks, clicking the safety off but not lowering it. 

“Wade. W. Winston,” the guy announces, holding a hand out. He’s wearing a belt loaded with weapons, and bulging pockets.

“Is that a knife in your pocket?” Peter asks.

Wade grins. “Yup!”

“You’ve got weapons?” Ned asks. “MJ, where the hell did you find this guy?”

“Sleeping rough,” MJ says, dumping her plastic bag in the kitchen. “Miraculously, he’s uncontaminated. And he’s got money, and weapons, and friends with food.”

“Friends with food?” Peter asks.

“Money and weapons?” Ned asks.

“I had a guy who worked at a bar. I’ve still got the back key,” Wade says. “He has a bunch of shit down in the basement.”

“What happened to him?” Ned asks.

“Dead,” Wade says sharply. “He got bitten, I shot him.”

“Oh. I’m.. sorry,” Peter says.

Wade turns to him. “Hardly matters now, does it? We’ve gotta keep on living, my young Skywalker. Life is nothing if you don’t make it something.”

Peter turns to MJ questioningly.

“He’s mildly insane,” MJ stage whispers. “Just go with it.”

Peter raises his eyebrows but nods. “Sure thing,” he tells Wade. “What’s your inventory like?”

Wade takes that as invitation to start taking everything from his belt, describe it, and pile it on the table. “I have seven handguns, three knifes, two katanas - you can’t have them, sorry - three condoms to practice safe sex-”

“You’re hoping to get lucky?” Ned asks, disbelieving. 

Wade winks. “You never know. A sewing kit, four syringes, a lump of coke from my friend, an engagement ring, ten thousand in cash-”

“In  _ cash _ ?!” Peter exclaims.

“I have more in my account, but it’s been a while since I’ve been to a bank,” Wade shrugs. “Anyway, I also have a pack of Oreo’s, a stuffed unicorn, a pack of gum, an orange, seven military grade grenades-”

“How did you even get them?” Ned asks.

“I have a friend,” Wade shrugs. “And finally, lube. Oh, wait, and a bunch of change.” He drops what has to be nearly four pounds of coppers onto the table. They spill onto the floorboards with a clatter.

“Where did you find this guy, MJ?” Peter asks, staring at the pile on their table.

“I told you, the streets.”

Wade starts to pile all the shit back into his belt. “So, can anyone give me a tour of the base?”

Peter volunteers blankly, leaving Ned and MJ to go through their new groceries, weapons, and the cash. Wade leaves his food, money, and four of the handguns on the table, as well as growing mound of bullets. Peter doesn’t want to know where he was hiding them.

Ned makes a face as Peter starts to lead Wade upstairs. Peter returns it. Wade’ll either be a blessing or a curse, and at the moment he looks like a blessing. At this point, anyone with money and guns is a blessing (although Peter doesn’t like how that sounds like prostitution).

Their ‘base’ isn’t so much of a base as it is an abandoned house the furthest away from zombie activity they could find, which means its on the outskirts of the city, away from hospitals, and near a little store that no one seems to have found yet. Peter doesn’t know whose it was, but MJ found it, and they usually go where MJ says. 

The wallpaper is flowery, the lights flickery, and Wade’s shirt is really tight against his back muscles, which are unfairly developed. 

“This is the, um, bathroom,” Peter says, gesturing to the door nearest the stairs. There’s only four doors leading off the landing, and then a trapdoor in the ceiling. He points the one opposite the bathroom, “That’s Ned and MJ’s room. We have to share.”

“Where do you sleep?” Wade asks.

Peter points out the door opposite the stairs. “That’s my room. I guess you being here means we share.”

Wade’s eyes rove up and down Peter’s body. “There’s not problem with that.”

Peter tries to ignore him. “Um, the last door is just a closet. And then there’s the attic, but we haven’t been up there yet.”

“Adventure for another time,” Wade says cheerily. “I’ll go first if you want.”

“Now?” Peter says doubtfully. “That’s fine. I’ll show you around downstairs first.”

Wade nods. “Sir, yes sir.”

Peter glances in the mirror just outside the bathroom. It’s got an ornate, gold, frame, but the actual mirror is smudged in fingerprints. There’s a ring of something dark red on the wall next to it, and Peter would prefer not to think about it.

His face is waxy pale, though, as it has been for the past week. His cheeks are hollow, eyes sunken in. There’s rings of purple beneath them. His glasses (which are wonky and loose) make them look ten times worse. His lips are dry and cracked, hair greasy because they ran out of both hot water and shampoo ten days ago. Peter’s never cared much about his appearance, and Ned and MJ look just as bad. But Wade doesn’t. And MJ said he’d been sleeping rough.

Peter tries not to think about it too much. The stairwell is small and tight and Wade keeps almost tripping on the back of Peter’s foot. He smells kind of like ash and fancy-pants rich person cologne, and it kind of overpowers the old-person smell that has lingered in the house since they unofficially ‘moved in’ and Peter likes the change. He pretends like he doesn’t. 


	2. chapter two

 

Peter isn’t exactly excited to sleep with Wade in his bed.

Well, that’s kind of a lie. He’s excited because Wade looks super warm and the only covers he has is a knitted, holey blanket and an old lady nightgown. But also nervous ‘cause he met Wade not even six hours ago, and so far he’s made eleven sex jokes, thrown three bullets and a condom at him, as well as eaten their two remaining moldy oranges and a lemon (without making a face).

Peter thinks Wade is a force to be reckoned with, and is kind of glad he’s on their side.

They sat around eating dry bread for dinner, watching their one interview DVD again (Peter’s lost count of how many times he’s watched that damn thing now), and then Ned and MJ left to go to bed. It was way past sunset, and the sky was navy blues and stars. Peter doesn’t blame them.

“I’m going too,” he says quietly to Wade. “Come up when you like, but be quiet, turn off all the lights, deadbolt the door, and make sure you have a loaded gun nearby.”

Wade nods without looking at him. His face is illuminated in the blue screensaver from the TV. They left it on for too long with no video playing. “Sleep well.”

Peter hums. “See you in the morning.”

He creeps upstairs as slowly as he dares, feeling alone the wall. Its dark, it always is, and Ned and MJ are sleeping. He can hear their breathing and listens for a minute. Listens to them being alive for a minute. 

There’s a gun on his nightstand, as well as one of the kitchen knives. He’s never had to use it before, but its better safe than sorry and no one knows if they’ll make it through the night these days. Most people don’t want to make it through the night. Peter wonders what the survival rates are. He doesn’t think he wants to know.

The bed is cold, and creaks when he sits on it, like it always does. That, at least, is vaguely comforting. He pulls the thin blanket over him and curls into the smallest ball manageable. Some small part of Peter’s brain is waiting for Wade to come in, if only so he can curl up around Wade. Peter tries to ignore it. He met Wade not even twenty four hours ago. 

That’s be wildly inappropriate, he tries to reason with himself. 

* * *

It doesn’t work, ‘cause he wakes up tomorrow morning squished into Wade’s arms anyway. 

And they’re much warmer than his holey blanket, and Peter feels.. Well rested, for the first time in almost six weeks. He almost doesn’t want to move.

But he has to, the sun streaming through the window means he has to get up, because Wednesdays are their busy days.

Peter slowly eases himself out of Wade’s arms, trying not to wake him. Wade seems like a heavy sleeper anyway, and he manages to tiptoe over to the dresser to get a clean-ish pair of jeans and a t-shirt that used to be MJ’s before padding out of the room and into the bathroom.

MJ and Ned look like they’re still asleep, the curtains drawn, drowning the room in soft, dark gold light. Things look entirely too calm.

He spends ten minutes in the bathroom, brushing his teeth with his finger because there was only one toothbrush in the house and they haven’t found anymore. Peter brushes through his hair with his fingers, rubs sleep out of his eyes, and stares in the mirror for a minute.

He doesn’t look good. His cheekbones are still far too prominent, and his eyes are tired. He’s tired. 

The clock above the toilet ticks half past eight, so Peter tiptoes down the stairs and starts rifling through their cupboards. 

They’re still pretty bare, even after MJ’s trip yesterday, but more full than they have been in a while, and it doesn’t take him long to find something suitable for breakfast. 

The loaf of bread he finds is spotted green, so he picks the mold out with a knife and slots two pieces into the toaster. They ran out of butter two weeks ago, and haven’t found anymore, so he eats the toast with a thin layer of blackcurrant jam (even though he doesn’t actually like blackcurrant jam - it’s better than eating it dry and burnt). 

MJ comes down while he’s sitting on the counter, turning the DVD case for their interview over in his hand. 

“Again?” she asks. 

Peter shakes his head. “Maybe.”

“You know, we could get Wade to buy us another. If you’re so opposed to stealing one,” MJ says. “Or we could steal one and have something to do.”

“I don’t want to steal anything.”

“Needs must, Parker,” MJ says. “You realise we stole this house, this food, that car, that backpack, those shoes, right?”

Peter groans. “I don’t wanna think about it. I’m going to hell.”

“You’ve gotta learn to be morally ambiguous,” MJ tells him. “It’s really freeing.”

“I like being a good person,” Peter says defensively. “Hey, what are we doing today? Merciless zombie fighting or strategic tactic meeting?” 

MJ hums. “We’ll stay here today. See what we can find out from Wade.”

“And where he fits in in the grand scheme of things,” Ned says, hooking his foot in the handle of one of the lower cupboards and pulling it open. “Is he awake yet, by the way?”

Peter shrugs. “Still asleep when I got up.”

Ned dumps their meager box of oatmeal packets on the floor beside him, fishing one out and holding it up to his eyes. “Best before, five days ago,” he announces.

“It’ll be fine,” MJ tells him. “Not like we have a choice if we want to stay alive, is it?”

“She’s got a point,” Peter says.

“She’s always got a point,” Ned grumbles.

“I can hear you, you know,” MJ says, “Oh! Morning, sleeping beauty.”

Wade grunts from the doorway. “How do you sleep on that bed every night? It feels like my bad back has a bad back.”

Peter shrugs. “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“I hate that you’re right. Beats concrete, anyway.” Wade claps. “What’s the agenda for today, then, homies?”

MJ glances at Ned and Peter before shrugging. “We’ll plan a diamond heist, maybe decapitate a couple of the undead. Your average Wednesday.”

Wade grins. “Fun!”

“Also,” Ned interjects, “Is it alright if we look into purchasing more.. Resources?”

“Resources?”

“More information on the apocalypse,” Peter says. “With your money.”

“Oh,” Wade shrugs. “Sure. I’ve got no use for it. How do we get these resources?”

“Black market, probably,” Ned says.

“You know how to get to the black market?” MJ asks.

Ned shrugs. “Who doesn’t?”

“Normal people?” Peter tells him, frowning. “How come you never told us? Is this not, kind of, semi important information that we as your friends deserved to know?”

“It’s not the sort of thing you just drop in a conversation,” Ned says.

“You still could have told us,” MJ says.

“So how were you guys getting your guns and stuff if not on the dark web?” Wade asks.

“We raided my step-dad’s garage,” MJ says, “and a few gun stores. And one police station. How’d you get yours?”

“I was a mercenary in a past life,” Wade says.

“Think you can remember any of the skills you had?” Peter asks. “We’ve got a horde of zombies that need unalive-ing.”

“A man after my own heart, Parker. I’m sure I can remember how to shoot a gun,” Wade says. “Anyway, what was this about diamond heists?"

“Well, we can either buy some info or steal it,” MJ says. “I say we steal, Peter says we pay.”

“Stealing is so much more fun!” Wade exclaims. 

“You know if someone catches us we’ll die,” Peter says. 

“We’ll die any way,” MJ says, “We have been over this.”

Peter groans. “Fine. Just don’t get me arrested.”

“There’s no one left to arrest you,” Ned says. MJ chuckles.

 

* * *

 

Peter leaves MJ, Ned and Wade chatting in the kitchen to climb up to the roof of their house. He knows, logically, he shouldn’t. The ceiling could break, or a zombie could spot him, or he could fall, but it is one of the only places he can be alone these days. And he needs the time alone, with his thoughts and the clouds or else he might go insane.

Well, more insane than he probably already is. The apocalypse just.. Does things to a person.

He wishes it wasn’t like this, but he doesn’t know what he wants it to be instead. He doesn’t think he could go back to whatever life was before the apocalypse. He’s hardwired for battle now. If MJ’s right that they’ll never live through this, he’s kind of glad.

There’s a hard rap on the window beneath him, and then Wade sticks his head out.

Right, Wade. Another problem to add to Peter’s teetering skyscraper of them. He wishes he could talk about Wade with May or Tony, but he hasn’t seen either of them since. Well. Since MJ shot May. And he hasn’t had contact with Tony. He’s probably dead. If he wasn’t, Peter would know.

He doesn’t know how many people on Tony’s team survived. Or SHIELD. He hasn’t bothered to check, really. MJ has a conspiracy that SHIELD are the ones who orchestrated the whole outbreak, and Peter wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be true. It seems exactly the sort of thing SHIELD would do, but he’s not sure how they’re keeping themselves immune.

Airtight military bunkers is MJ’s working theory, but they haven’t discussed it much yet.

“Peter!” Wade yells, painfully high pitched and screechy. “Mr and Mrs Dangerous are threatening me with guns if you don’t get down here.”

Peter sticks his middle finger towards Wade. The sky is a really bright blue today. Honestly, Peter didn’t expect the apocalypse to bring so many colours, but he supposes its not like the world would stop just because of the zombies. At least all the video games and movies got it wrong. The world doesn’t grey and grimey as soon as everyone dies.

“Peter!” Wade calls again. “Do you really like flirting with death that much?”

“Yes,” Peter says.

There’s a scuffle, a swear, and then Wade hauls himself onto the roof too. “What are you even doing up here?”

“Thinking.”

“About what? Clouds and the ever present threat of death?” Wade asks.

“Yes,” Peter tells him. “Don’t you?”

“Come on, Ned and MJ want to discuss dark web things with you and I need someone to hold my hand when I get scared.”

Peter turns to raise his eyebrows at Wade. “You? Get scared?”

“All the time,” Wade says. 

“Fine. What do they want on the dark web?”

“Guns, body parts, and illegal prostitutes,” Wade winks. “No, they’re looking for zom-facts-dot-com.”

“That’s a real site?”

“Maybe. Come and find out?”

Peter groans. “Fine. It’s not like I was  _ busy  _ or anything.”

“You were sitting out here staring at the sky. Chop chop!”

 

* * *

 

Ned and MJ don’t bother looking up when Peter and Wade walk back in. MJ says, “You should quit sitting out on the roof like that.”

“Why?”

“You’re a shining beacon out there,” Ned tells him and Peter grins.

“You know it,” he says, and MJ glares at him, but its all for play and she bursts out laughing not five seconds later.

It makes Peter realise kind of how ludicrous their situation is, when he’s laughing so hard his stomach hurts in the middle of the apocalypse with two of his best friends and some guy he met yesterday. He doesn’t think its a bad thing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesus fuck im so so sorry this is almost a whole MONTH later god okay read on for a shitty explanation
> 
> basically im in something of a depression slump and this is one of the stories ive lost motivation for. which is why this chap is so SHORT and SHIT but hopefully itll get better? im trying not to pay attention to wordcount too much. anyway, i have been writing, loads, so there will be new shit up soon i PROMISE
> 
> anyway, if you liked this, maybe give it a kudos and a comment? 
> 
> till the next time! much love

**Author's Note:**

> i got an ask in my [tumblr](https://spideysstark.tumblr.com) a while back asking for an apocalypse au, and i loved it so much i said id make a full length fic from it instead of a drabble. this is that fic. i dont know how many chapters itll end up being, and i dont know how often ill be posting said chapters either, but hopefully i can adhere to some sort of schedule. 
> 
> that being said, i hope you enjoyed this. im really enjoying it so far, and there'll be a bunch more characters to come (whether they're zombified or not, you'll have to wait and see). please comment what you think of this! id love to know your thoughts, and they really help keep me writing.


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